m  EXJ1BRIS  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


JOHN  HENRY  NASH  LIBRARY 


<S>  SAN  FRANCISCO 

PRESENTED  TO  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

ROBERT  GORDON  SPROUL, PRESIDENT. 
BY" 


MR.ANDMRS.MILTON  S.RAY 
CECILY,  VIRGINIAANDROSALYN  RAY 


RAY  OIL  BURNER  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
Paul  Elder  and  Company 


To  My  Margaret 


So  near  is  evil  when  we're  weak 
And  cry  I  can 't,  yet  ill 

And  good  exist  but  to  bespeak 
Our  character — our  will. 

Epictetus. 


So  near  is  grandeur  to  our  dust, 

So  near  is  God  to  man, 
When  Duty  whispers  low,  Thou  must, 

The  Will  replies,  /  can. 

Emerson. 


iN  A  time  so  long  ago  that  it  would  take 
four  figures  on  your  slates  to  tell  the 
number  of  years,  and  in  a  country  so 
far  away  that  you  might  wander  for 
years  over  mountains  and  across  valleys  without 
finding  it,  there  lived  two  people,  in  a  beautiful 
home.  This  home,  with  its  lovely  surroundings,  had 
been  given  to  them  by  a  very  rich  man  in  whose 
castle  they  had  faithfully  served  ever  since  they 
were  little  children.  This  man  was  exceedingly 
wise  and  knew  many  truths  about  how  to  keep 
well  and  how  to  possess  things  which  nothing  can 
destroy.  He  loved  to  teach  these  things  to  those 
who  wished  to  learn ;  but  he  taught  them  only  on 
condition  that  they  come  and  serve  him  obediently ; 
and  no  one  who  labored  in  his  castle  ever  wished 
to  go  away.  He  had  to  teach  them  the  very  easiest 


things  first,  because  they  could  not  learn  the  harder 
things  right  away,  any  more  than  you  could  learn 
to  read  before  you  had  learned  your  A  B  C's.  The 
very  first  thing  that  he  taught  was  obedience ;  for 
that  is  the  thing  that  every  one  must  learn  before 
he  is  ready  for  greater  things.  However,  he  tried 
to  explain  very  clearly  just  why  he  asked  certain 
things  of  them,  and  his  reasons  were  so  good  that 
although  one  could  not  always  quite  understand 
the  "why,"  he  was  very  willing  to  obey. 

The  Twins  and  Their  Queer  Names. 

) W  these  two  people  about  whom  I  am 
telling  you,  thought  they  were  about  as 
happy  as  they  could  be,  living  in  their 
beautiful  home,  among  the  birds  and 
flowers,  and  working  for  the  wise  man.  But  by 
and  by  they  became  a  great  deal  happier,  for  there 
came  to  live  with  them  two  little  twin  girls.  I 
could  tell  you  quite  a  long  story  about  the  baby 
hood  of  these  little  girls ;  however,  I  believe  that 
you  would  rather  hurry  along  with  me,  and  get 


acquainted  with  them  as  they  were  when  they  had 
grown  to  be  about  as  big  as  you  are.  And  first  I 
shall  tell  you  their  names.  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
wonder  how  in  the  world  they  ever  got  such  odd, 
long  ones,  and  will  look  in  the  dictionary  to  find 
out  what  they  mean.  One  was  named  Cantata  and 
the  other  Cantatrice.  Just  for  a  little  hint,  I  will 
tell  you  that  they  were  singing,  singing,  singing 
from  morning  till  night,  and  that  no  birds  had 
sweeter  voices. 

However,  as  you  will  guess,  these  names  were 
entirely  too  long  for  every-day  use.  When  one  tried 
to  tell  them  something,  he  often  forgot  what  he 
was  going  to  say  by  the  time  he  had  finished  say 
ing  their  names ;  so,  almost  before  they  knew  it, 
people  began  calling  them  "  Cannie  "  and  "  Cantie." 
At  last  nearly  every  one  forgot  what  their  real 
names  were,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  that  the  girls, 
themselves,  would  have  had  trouble  in  remember 
ing  and  pronouncing  them  and  deciding  which 
name  belonged  to  which  little  girl. 

Whether  these  names  had  anything  to  do  with 


their  dispositions,  is  a  question  which  I  am  not 
prepared  to  answer,  —  there  are  so  many  things 
around  about  us  which  seem  strange  until  we  learn 
the  reason  why,  and  then  it  is  all  so  plain  that  we 
are  surprised  to  find  we  could  have  been  so  stupid 
as  not  to  have  seen  it  all  the  time.  Anyway, 
whether  the  names  had  anything  to  do  with  it  or 
not,  the  fact  remains  that  after  the  names  were 
changed,  the  little  girls  sang  less,  and  developed 
qualities  which  no  one  had  ever  noticed  in  them 
before. 

You  see,  although  they  lived  in  a  very  beauti 
ful  home,  and  had  many  rich  and  beautifiil  things, 
they  were  not  expected  to  be  idle.  Their  mother 
was  a  very  wise  woman,  having  learned  so  many 
things  from  the  great  man,  and  she  knew  that  one 
could  not  long  be  happy  without  something  worth 
while  to  do.  Her  little  girls,  each,  had  certain 
duties  which  she  was  expected  to  perform.  These 
duties  nearly  always  consisted  in  doing  something 
to  make  some  one  else  happy.  Besides  this,  they 
were  taught  to  watch  and  see  for  themselves  where 


they  might  be  helpful  to  those  in  need,  or  say  a 
cheery  or  loving  word  where  there  was  a  place 
for  it.  • 

Although  each  child  was  taught  in  exactly  the 
same  way,  there  was  a  great  difference  in  results: 
Cantie  was  always  holding  out  a  helping  hand  to 
some  one,  and  saying,  "Let  me  do  that  for  you," 
or,  "May  I  not  help  you?"  Cantie  was  always 
looking  the  other  way  when  such  opportunities 
were  in  view,  or  saying,  "  Oh,  I  can't  do  that,  I 
don't  know  how ! "  or,  "  It  is  too  hard ! "  If,  in  their 
play,  their  dresses  were  torn,  and  this  happened  as 
often  as  it  does  to  other  little  girls,  Cannie  would 
get  a  needle  and  thread,  and  say,  "  I've  torn  my 
dress,  Mamma,  but  I  am  sure  I  can  mend  it  if 
you  will  show  me  just  a  little."  She  soon  learned 
to  mend  very  neatly  indeed,  and  was  as  proud  of 
it  as  she  had  a  right  to  be.  But  if  Cantie  had  an 
accident  to  her  clothes,  she  would  say,  "There, 
I've  torn  my  dress,  and  I  just  can't  mend  it!"  If 
her  mother  was  too  busy  to  attend  to  it,  the  tear 
would  go  unmended,  and  we  all  know  that  a  hole 

5 


never  gets  any  smaller  by  letting  it  go.  And  so  it 
often  happened  that  Cantie  was  obliged  to  wear  a 
much  larger  patch  or  darn  than  her  sister, 
because  of  the  lack  of  the  "  stitch  in  time." 

It  was  so  in  nearly  everything.  In  music  Cantie 
was  really  the  brighter ;  but  if  there  was  a  phrase 
that  seemed  a  little  difficult,  she  would  say,  "  Oh, 
I  can't  play  that ! "  and  would  go  off  about  some 
thing  else.  It  was  the  same  with  other  things, 
until  at  last  she  came  to  believe  that  she  really 
could  not  do  the  things  which  looked  hard;  and 
you  know  if  we  believe  that  we  cannot  do  a  thing, 
it  actually  seems  as  if  we  could  not.  In  a  wonder 
ful  old  book  which  their  mother  had,  and  which 
they  called  the  "  Wisdom  Book,"  it  was  written : 
"The  greatest  sin  is  unbelief,"  meaning,  I  think, 
that  unbelief  is  the  cause  of  our  leaving  undone 
many  of  the  good  things  which  were  ours  to  do. 
Cantie  came  to  believe  so  thoroughly  that  she 
could  not  do  things,  that  she  at  last  stopped  trying, 
and,  as  trying  is  the  proof  of  whether  we  really 
can  or  cannot,  therefore,  the  more  she  didn't,  the 


more  she  couldn't.  Soon  she  had  become  a  very 
useless  little  girl  indeed.  And,  as  she  had  so  little  to 
occupy  her  hands  and  her  thoughts,  she  had  a 
great  deal  of  time  to  think  about  herself  and  the 
things  she  wished  for  but  did  not  need,  and  the 
things  she  would  like  to  do  and  couldn't,  until  at 
last,  she  had  become  most  unhappy  and  hadn't  the 
least  idea  of  what  was  the  matter  with  her. 

The  Mother  Starts  Them  Upon  a  Journey. 

|HE  wise  mother  was  watching  her  small 
daughters,  and  giving  much  time  and 
thought  to  guiding  them  rightly,  and  she 
was  perfectly  sure  that  Cantie  would 
overcome  this  wrong  thinking,  when  she  was  old 
enough  to  see  things  clearly  and  to  learn  lessons 
from  the  experiences  which  came  to  her.  When, 
at  last,  the  little  girls  seemed  to  have  reached  the 
proper  age,  the  mother  decided  to  send  them  upon 
a  journey,  all  by  themselves.  She  planned  every 
thing  very  carefully  indeed,  and  then,  one  night, 
told  them  that  they  were  to  start  the  next  morning 


to  go  to  a  beautiful  house  which  they  would  find 
at  the  end  of  a  day's  journey.  They  were  to  go 
alone  and  must  walk  all  the  way.  She  told  them 
that  she,  herself,  had  to  go  away,  and  cxmld  not  be 
there  to  see  them  off  in  the  morning,  but  that  she 
would  prepare  everything  for  an  early  start.  Both 
girls  were  very  eager  to  undertake  the  journey. 

However,  when  morning  came,  and  they  found 
the  clothing  which  had  been  prepared  for  them  by 
the  wise  mother,  their  eagerness  changed  to  dis 
may.  Everything  was  so  very  different  from  what 
they  were  accustomed  to  wear.  Even  Cannie 
hesitated  when  she  saw  the  heavy  shoes,  the  coarse, 
plain  dress,  and  the  wide-brimmed  straw  hat;  but 
she  felt  so  sure  that  her  mother  had  a  good  reason 
for  choosing  these  things  for  her,  that  she  made 
the  best  of  it  and  hurried  into  her  clothes,  trying 
not  to  let  her  dissatisfaction  cloud  the  morning 
sunshine. 

Now,  in  Cantie's  room  you  may  guess  that 
there  was  a  very  different  scene.  She  began  with 
the  shoes — "Such  coarse  things,  I  can't  wear 

8 


them !  I  don't  believe  I  could  walk  a  step  in  them ! " 
As  her  mother  had  not  really  commanded  them  to 
wear  the  clothes  which  she  had  selected,  Cantie 
threw  aside  the  shoes,  and  put  on  her  new,  fine 
ones.  The  next  was  the  dress,  and,  as  usual,  the 
protest — "I  can't  wear  such  an  ugly,  horrid  thing 
as  that ! "  And  out  came  her  soft  mull  frock,  with 
its  ruffles  and  laces  and  delicate  trimmings.  Of 
course  when  she  came  to  the  hat — that  was  not 
to  be  thought  of  with  the  dainty  frock  and  fine 
shoes;  so  she  put  on  the  pretty  new  white  one, 
with  its  flowers  and  ribbons,  and  the  gay  parasol 
must  go  with  that,  to  shade  her  face.  Finally,  after 
much  worrying  and  fretting,  she  was  ready,  and  a 
great  contrast  there  was  between  the  two  little 
girls,  as  they  set  out  upon  their  journey. 

Scarcely  were  they  outside  of  the  gate,  when 
Cantie  discovered  that  it  was  not  at  all  easy  to 
carry  a  parasol  and  a  lunch  basket,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  keep  her  hat  from  blowing  away.  She 
peeped  beneath  the  lid  of  the  basket,  and  finding 
that  it  contained  only  some  bread  and  butter,  and 


reflecting  that  she  was  not  in  the  least  hungry, 
she  decided  to  leave  it  behind.  Cannie,  however, 
trudged  along  with  her  basket,  confident  that  her 
mother  knew  what  was  best  for  her. 

They  Cross  a  River — The  First  Why. 

|HE  morning  was  delightfully  pleasant 
and  the  road  level  and  smooth  for  the 
first  few  hours  of  their  way ;  and  as  there 
had  been  a  gentle  shower  in  the  night, 
there  was  no  dust  to  trouble  them  or  to  spoil 
Cantie's  fine  clothes.  Indeed,  Cantie  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  in  thinking  how  much 
nicer  she  looked  than  her  sister,  and  how  foolish 
Cannie  had  been  to  put  on  those  very  ugly  gar 
ments.  * 

After  traveling  for  some  time  they  came  to  a 
rather  broad  stream  of  water  which  they  were 
obliged  to  cross.  As  it  was  very  shallow,  no  one 
had  ever  thought  it  necessary  to  build  a  bridge  over 
it,  and  the  stepping-stones  were  too  far  apart  for 
such  small  girls  to  cross  upon.  The  mother  knew 

10 


of  this  stream,  and  that  was  one  reason  that  she 
had  supplied  the  strong,  water-proof  shoes.  When 
they  came  to  this  stream,  Cannie  wished  to  cross 
it  at  once,  for  she  knew  that  her  shoes  would  not 
let  the  water  through ;  but  Cantie  knew  that  her 
fine,  thin  shoes  would  become  soaked  and  ruined. 
She  was  afraid  to  take  them  off  and  wade  across 
barefooted,  since  the  stones  beneath  the  water 
looked  very  sharp  and  slippery,  and  the  water 
flowed  quite  swiftly. 

As  Cannie  was  a  very  obliging  little  girl, 
always  glad  to  do  what  she  could  to  make  others 
happy,  she  consented  to  hunt  for  a  bridge.  They 
spent  a  long  hour  in  vain  searching  up  and  down 
the  crooked  little  stream,  but  at  last  were  compelled 
to  return  to  the  road  and  cross  over  as  best  they 
could.  Cannie  would  willingly  have  carried  Cantie 
over,  but,  unfortunately,  Cantie  happened  to  be 
somewhat  the  heavier  of  the  two,  although  they 
were  exactly  the  same  age.  Of  course  Cantie 
made  a  good  deal  of  fuss  before  she  reached  the 
other  side,  and  Cannie  helped  her  all  that  she 

11 


could;  however,  in  spite  of  everything,  it  was  a 
very  Si-tempered  and  uncomfortable  little  girl  who 
at  last  stepped  upon  dry  land  again  and  tried  to 
wring  the  water  out  of  her  skirt  which  had  become 
draggled  from  her  slipping  and  stumbling  upon 
the  wet  stones. 

One  Lunch  for  Two— The  Second  Why. 

|OW,  as  they  had  spent  so  much  time  in 
looking  for  a  bridge,  and  as  they  had 
been  too  excited  to  eat  much  breakfast, 
they  began  to  feel  quite  hungry.  Cantie, 
you  will  remember,  had  left  her  lunch-basket 
behind,  because  it  was  troublesome  to  carry,  and 
because  it  contained  only  bread  and  butter.  She 
now  began  to  think  how  exceedingly  good  that 
same  bread  and  butter  would  taste  if  she  only  had 
it.  Cannie  was  generous,  however,  and  they  sat 
down  in  the  shade  of  a  big  tree  while  she  divided 
her  own  lunch  with  her  sister,  although  there  was 
really  only  enough  for  one  hungry  little  girl,  and 
both  could  easily  have  eaten  twice  as  much,  and 

12 


even  more.  While  Cantie  was  eating,  her  shoes 
had  been  drying,  and  when  she  started  on  again, 
still  in  a  very  bad  humor  because  she  was  still 
hungry,  she  found  that,  in  drying,  they  had  shrunk 
so  that  they  pinched  and  cramped  her  feet  terribly. 
It  was  right  here  that  Cantie  began  to  understand 
her  mother's  reasons  for  providing  for  them  exactly 
as  she  had.  The  mother  had  always  been  very 
ready  to  explain  the  "why"  of  everything  that 
she  required  of  them;  but  she  was  not  there  to 
explain  this  time,  and  they  were  fast  finding  out 
the  "whys"  for  themselves,  very  much  to  Cantie's 
discomfort. 

As  for  Cannie,  her  shoes  seemed  to  have  be 
come  more  soft  and  easy  for  their  wetting,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  had  never  worn  more  com 
fortable  or  better-fitting  ones  in  all  her  life,  al 
though  at  first  they  had  seemed  so  clumsy.  Con 
sequently  she  was  thanking  her  mother,  in  her 
grateful  little  heart,  for  knowing  so  well  what  was 
best  for  her,  and  was  now  glad  that  she  had  been 
sensible  enough  to  obey. 

13 


The  Wonderful  Water-proof  Clothes. 

S  THEY  came  out  of  the  wood,  where 
they  had  eaten  their  luncheon,  Cantie 
suddenly  discovered  that  she  had  left  her 
parasol,  and,  as  the  sun  was  very  hot, 
Cannie  proposed  that  they  go  back  and  try  to  find 
it.  Back  they  went,  and  although  they  searched 
for  a  long  time,  they  could  not  find  the  particular 
tree  under  which  they  had  eaten,  nor  could  they 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  parasol.  They  did  find  out 
one  thing:  that  the  grass  upon  which  they  had  sat 
was  damp,  and  had  left  several  bright  green  stains 
upon  Cantie's  pretty  mull  frock.  As  you  know,  no 
amount  of  rubbing  with  handkerchiefs  has  the 
slightest  effect  upon  grass  stains,  and  when  they 
emerged  from  the  woods  the  second  time,  Cantie 
was  no  longer  thinking  of  how  nice  she  looked, 
but  rather  of  the  mussed  and  stained  dress  and  the 
very  painful  shoes.  Soon  she  had  more  troubles 
to  add  to  these,  for  the  sun  was  very  bright  and 
hot,  and  her  hat  was  of  the  thinnest  lace,  scarcely 

14 


protecting  her  at  all.  In  a  short  time  her  eyes  were 
dazzled  and  smarting,  and  her  face  and  neck  were 
burned  almost  to  a  blister. 

Cannie  found  her  hat,  with  its  broad  brim,  to 
be  a  comfort  indeed.  It  shielded  her  eyes  and  kept 
the  sun's  rays  from  touching  her  face  and  neck. 
She  would  gladly  have  shared  it  with  her  sister; 
but  you  know  that  two  cannot  wear  one  hat  at 
the  same  time,  and,  besides,  Cantie  was  really  a 
very  just  little  girl,  and  she  plainly  saw  that  all  of 
her  suffering  was  caused  by  her  own  faults.  She 
would  not  allow  Cannie  to  be  made  uncomforta 
ble  because  of  her,  although  she  was  quite  cross  in 
her  refusal  to  wear  the  broad-brimmed  hat  a  part 
of  the  time.  And  now,  while  they  were  out  in  the 
open,  with  no  shelter  in  sight,  a  sudden  shower 
came  up.  In  a  moment  Cantie  was  drenched  to 
the  skin.  The  lace  hat  and  the  thin,  soft  dress 
were  almost  no  protection,  and  as  the  clouds 
which  hid  the  sun  were  dense  and  black,  and  a 
chilly  wind  sprang  up,  she  was  soon  shivering 
with  cold.  In  fact,  Cantie  was  about  the  most 

15 


miserable  little  girl  that  you  could  imagine,  and  she 
was  finding  out  more  "whys"  every  minute. 

Cannie,  however,  was  having  no  trouble  at  all, 
excepting  that  caused  by  her  sister's  discomfort. 
Her  broad  hat  proved  to  be  waterproof  and  kept 
its  shape  perfectly,  and  her  dress  shed  the  rain 
without  letting  a  drop  through.  In  fact,  Cannie 
was  finding  out  some  very  wonderful  things  about 
these  clothes  of  hers.  She  had  found  that  the 
dress  was  dirtproof  as  well  as  waterproof,  and, 
instead  of  showing  any  spots  or  stains  or  becom 
ing  harsh  with  the  rain,  it  seemed  to  be  constantly 
growing  softer  and  whiter  and  smoother  in  texture 
until  it  really  began  to  look  very  pretty  indeed. 
And  the  more  wonders  and  "  whys  "  that  she  found 
out,  the  more  she  loved  the  good  mother  who  had 
planned  these  things  for  her. 

It  was  well  for  Cantie  that  there  was  no  mir 
ror  in  which  she  could  see  herself.  She  had  become 
a  very  queer-looking  little  girl  indeed.  Her  hat  had 
been  trimmed  with  a  wreath  of  beautiful  red  and 
pink  roses  and  their  green  stems  and  leaves;  but 

16 


the  rain  had  washed  out  all  the  color  and  it  had 
run  in  streams  down  her  face  and  dress  until  she 
looked  like  a  little  Indian  maiden  in  fiill  war-paint, 
although,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  that  little 
Indian  maidens  do  not  paint  up  and  go  to  war.  But, 
anyway,  she  did  not  look  at  all  like  a  pretty  little 
girl  dressed  in  her  best  clothes  and  going  on  a  visit. 

The  Cooking  Lesson — Cantie's  Dinner. 

[HEIR  mother  had  told  them  to  stop  for 
dinner  at  the  home  of  a  friend  of  hers; 
but  the  dinner  hour  was  so  long  past, 
because  of  their  many  delays,  that  when 
they  reached  the  house  they  found  only  a  note 
telling  them  that  the  friend  had  gone  away,  having 
decided  that  they  were  not  coming.  But  thinking 
that  they  might  perhaps  arrive  late,  she  had  left 
things  so  that  they  could  prepare  their  own  dinner 
if  they  wished.  I  rather  think  that  their  wise 
mother  had  something  to  do  with  this.  I  am  quite 
sure  that  if  there  had  not  been  a  "why"  to 
become  acquainted  with,  the  good  lady  would  have 

17 


left  something  cooked  and  ready  for  them.  How 
ever,  as  it  was,  there  was  everything  to  cook, 
but  not  one  thing  cooked.  The  note  told  them 
where  there  was  wood  for  the  fire,  and  where  they 
might  find  everything  necessary  for  cooking  din 
ner.  There  was  also  a  folded  paper  marked  in  their 
mother's  writing :  "  To  be  read  when  dinner  is  pre 
pared,  but  before  eating." 

Now  Cannie  was  not  at  all  disconcerted  over 
the  condition  of  things.  She  had  learned  to  cook, 
just  as  people  who  are  anxious  to  help  others 
always  do  learn  to  do  things,  and,  as  her  clothes 
had  kept  her  comfortable  and  the  cool  north  wind 
had  refreshed  her,  she  immediately  set  to  work  to 
prepare  the  meal.  But  Cantie  felt  differently  about 
it:  "Oh,  dear,  you  know  I  can't  cook!"  she  cried, 
"  and  I'm  so  tired,  and  my  feet  hurt  so !  I  simply 
must  rest." 

Cannie  was  full  of  sympathy,  as  she  knew  what 
a  hard  time  her  sister  had  been  having,  so  she  fixed 
the  pillows  on  the  couch  and  told  her  to  lie  down 
and  try  to  sleep  a  little,  while  she  got  dinner  ready. 

18 


In  a  short  time  everything  was  prepared  and 
the  two  girls  sat  down  to  the  table,  just  about  as 
hungry  as  two  little  girls  could  be.  However,  the 
first  thing  to  do  was  to  read  the  note  from  their 
mother.  Cantie  unfolded  it  and  read  aloud: 
"  Whosoever  will  not  work,  shall  not  eat." 

For  several  minutes  Cannie  and  Cantie  sat  and 
looked  at  the  nice,  hot  dinner  spread  before  them, 
and  then,  for  almost  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Can 
nie  said,  "  J  can't."  "I  just  can't  eat  any  dinner 
if  you  may  not,"  she  said.  Cantie  was  too  dis 
mayed  to  say  anything  at  all. 

Presently,  however,  Cannie  jumped  up.  "I'll 
tell  you.  We  will  hurry  and  get  your  dinner  ready, 
and  then  we  will  eat  together.  I  will  show  you 
exactly  how  to  do  everything." 

At  first  Cantie  was  inclined  to  refuse  and  go 
hungry.  She  was  entirely  too  conscientious  to  eat 
anything  that  Cannie  had  prepared,  after  reading 
what  her  mother  had  written;  but  everything 
looked  so  good  and  smelled  so  good  that,  very 
reluctantly,  she  consented  to  Cannie's  plan,  and 

19 


prepared  to  take  her  first  lesson  in  cooking.  It  is 
surprising  how  much  one  can  accomplish  when 
one  really  tries.  Cantie  was  astonished  to  find  how 
very  easy  it  was  to  prepare  the  dishes  which  had 
always  seemed  to  her  to  be  so  much  trouble;  and 
she  was  prouder  and  happier,  when  she  next  sat 
down  to  the  table,  than  she  had  ever  been  before 
in  her  life. 

The  two  girls  had  a  very  jolly  time  over  their 
meal,  and  both  were  so  delighted  over  Cantie's 
success,  that  they  forgot  all  about  being  tired;  and 
when  they  had  washed  the  dishes  and  straightened 
up  the  house  again,  and  were  ready  to  start  once 
more  upon  their  journey,  they  felt  almost  as  fresh 
as  when  they  had  left  home  in  the  morning.  Can- 
tie  caught  one  glimpse  of  herself  in  the  mirror  be 
fore  starting.  In  that  moment  she  saw  a  very 
large  number  of  "Whys"  and  made  an  equal 
number  of  good  resolutions.  You  will  remember 
that  Cannie's  dress  had  seemed  to  grow  softer 
and  finer  and  whiter  all  the  time,  no  matter  what 
hard  usage  it  had  received;  but  poor  Cantie's 

20 


gown  showed  every  spot  and  stain,  and  now,  since 
she  had  worked  about  the  stove,  it  carried  a  large 
scorch,  as  well  as  many  black  marks  and  several 
large  rents.  However,  she  said  nothing.  She  felt 
that  she  had  deserved  all  of  her  discomfort  and 
unhappiness — she  had  learned  the  A  B  C's  of 
experience. 

The  Last  Why — Berries  and  Thorns. 

|HE  children  walked  along  the  road  in 
silence  for  quite  a  long  way,  and  at  last 
their  path  led  them  up  a  high  hill  which 
was  covered  with  bushes.  These  bushes 
bore  many  sharp  thorns  which  seemed  to  reach 
out  and  catch  hold  of  everything  that  came  near 
them.  They  were  also  laden  with  the  most  de 
licious  berries,  all  ready  to  be  had  for  the  picking. 
Cannie  now  drew  from  her  pocket  a  pair  of  thick 
gloves  which  her  mother  had  placed  there  for  her. 
When  Cantie  saw  them  she  turned  away  her 
head,  remembering  how  she  had  laughed  at  the 
clumsy  pair  that  she  had  found  in  the  pocket  of 

21 


the  dress  which  she  would  not  wear.  Cannie  was 
soon  picking  berries,  but  Cantie,  after  a  few  efforts, 
which  resulted  in  dreadfully  scratched  hands  and 
a  sadly  torn  dress,  gave  it  up ;  nor  would  she  take 
a  single  one  of  those  which  Cannie  picked.  That 
note  of  her  mother's  made  her  feel  she  had  no 
right  to  profit  by  Cannie's  work  and  obedience. 

When  they  reached  the  place  where  the  ber 
ries  were  most  plentiful,  and  the  thorns  the  longest 
and  sharpest,  they  came  upon  an  old  woman  with 
an  empty  pail  by  her  side,  who  was  crying  bitterly. 
Her  hands  were  bare  and  scratched,  and  her  dress 
and  shoes  indicated  by  their  many  rents  that  she 
had  been  trying  to  pick  some  berries.  She  wore 
nothing  upon  her  head,  and  her  hair  was  thin  and 
showed  the  marks  of  the  thorns  which  had  tried 
to  prevent  her  from  getting  their  treasure.  She 
was  not  a  pleasant  person  to  look  at,  but  the  girls 
never  thought  of  being  afraid  of  her.  Instead, 
they  approached  and  asked  why  she  was  crying, 
and  if  there  was  anything  they  could  do  for  her. 
She  told  them  that  she  had  come  out  to  gather 

22 


berries,  hoping  to  sell  enough  to  buy  clothes  which 
she  needed  very  much;  but  the  thorns  scratched 
her  so  that  she  had  been  obliged  to  give  it  up  in 
bitter  disappointment. 

Both  of  the  girls  eagerly  offered  to  help  her, 
but  immediately  after,  Cantie  bit  her  lip.  "Oh,  I 
can't!"  she  said,  and  she  said  it  with  more  real 
sorrow  than  she  had  ever  felt  before.  Cannie  took 
the  pail,  however,  and  immediately  set  to  work  to 
fill  it.  "  Isn't  there  anything  that  I  can  do  ?  "  asked 
Cantie,  looking  at  her,  ruefully.  She  wanted  so 
much  to  do  something  to  help  the  old  woman. 

Cannie  stopped  picking  berries  for  a  moment. 
"  Don't  you  think  you  could  go  and  cheer  her  up  a 
little?"  she  asked. 

Cantie  did  not  feel  very  cheerful,  herself,  and 
she  opened  her  mouth  to  say,  "  I  can't,"  but  she 
suddenly  stopped,  and  went  and  sat  down  beside 
the  old  woman.  By  the  time  that  Cannie  had  filled 
the  pail,  the  two  were  laughing  and  chatting  to 
gether  like  old  friends,  and,  when  the  old  woman 
thanked  Cannie  for  the  berries,  she  thanked  Cantie, 

23 


just  as  earnestly,  for  her  bright,  loving  words.  I 
think  that  Cantie  was,  for  a  moment,  even  hap 
pier  than  Cannie.  It  was  a  new  experience  for  her 
to  make  some  one  else  glad  and  grateful,  and  right 
here  she  found  a  large  and  beautiful "  Why  " :  why 
it  is  good  to  bring  happiness  into  the  lives  of  others. 

The  End  of  the  Journey. 

|ND  now  they  turned  into  an  exceedingly 
narrow  path,  so  narrow  that  the  bushes 
and  briers  touched  them  upon  either  side 
and  nearly  met  over  their  heads.  Can- 
tie's  shoes  had,  by  this  time,  become  so  worn  that 
they  afforded  scarcely  any  protection  at  all  to  her 
feet.  The  narrow,  French  heels  were  constantly 
catching  upon  the  roots  and  weeds  and  tripping 
her  up,  and  her  ankles  had  been  turned  and 
wrenched  so  many  times  that  she  could  hardly 
walk.  Some  time  before,  the  sun  had  gone  from 
sight  over  the  hill  and  the  air  was  growing  cooler 
and  cooler.  The  bushes  were  soon  covered  with 
dew  which  drenched  Cantie  as  thoroughly  as  the 

24 


rain  had  done  in  the  morning,  though  Cannie's 
dress  seemed  only  to  grow  softer  and  finer  and 
whiter  and  more  beautiful  for  the  wearing  of  the 
thorns  and  the  washing  of  the  dew. 

As  they  went  along  this  narrow  way  they 
could  feel  the  bushes  clutching  at  their  clothing  as 
they  passed.  It  was  growing  too  dark  to  see0  In 
fact,  it  grew  dark  so  fast  that  they  soon  would 
have  been  unable  to  see  a  step  before  them,  except 
for  a  wonderful  thing  that  happened.  As  it  grew 
darker  and  darker,  Cannie's  dress  grew  whiter  and 
whiter,  until  it  shown  so  brightly  that  it  made  a 
very  soft  light  all  around,  so  that  they  could 
easily  see  their  way.  It  is  always  so  with  the 
"garment  of  righteousness":  it  makes  a  light  for 
our  own  feet  and  also  for  those  who  walk  with  us. 
By  this  soft  radiance,  Cannie  and  Cantie  walked 
along,  until,  presently,  they  heard  a  voice  calling 
to  them,  and  they  came  out  upon  a  smooth  lawn 
before  a  spacious  house.  The  brilliant  lights  daz 
zled  them  for  an  instant,  but  they  had  recognized 
the  voice,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  in  the  arms 

25 


of  their  loving  mother,  who  had  been  watching 
eagerly  for  their  coming. 

"  My  little  Cannie  and  Cantie ! "  she  cried,  press 
ing  them  closely  to  her;  but  Cantie  laid  her  hand 
over  her  mother's  mouth. 

"  Not  that  name,  please,  Mamma,"  she  said. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  Ifttle  girl  ? "  asked 
the  mother. 

"  I  mean  that  I  am  not  '  Cantie'  any  more,  but 
'Connie'.  That  means  'Confidence';  for  the 
'  Whys '  have  taught  me  that  you  know  best,  and 
I  am  going  to  be  obedient,  and  never,  never  say 
'  I  can't '  any  more." 

The  mother  kissed  both  little  girls  lovingly,  and 
led  them  across  the  lawn  and  into  their  own  beau 
tiful  home  which  seemed  fairly  to  glow  with  the 
warmth  and  radiance  of  its  cheery  welcome. 
Cantie's  or,  rather,  Connie's  face  was  so  bright 
and  shining,  that  no  one  noticed  the  torn  dress  and 
tangled  hair,  or  that  her  shoes  were  in  shreds; 
and  even  she  forgot  it  in  the  new-found  happiness 
which  the  "Whys"  had  brought  to  her. 

26 


HERE  ENDETH  THE  TWINS  AND  THE  WHYS 
A  FAIRY  TALE  THAT  IS  WORTH  WHILE,  BY 
SUSAN  F.  THOMPSON.  WITH  DECORATIONS 
BY  SPENCER  WRIGHT.  PUBLISHED  BY  PAUL 
ELDER  AND  COMPANY  AND  PRINTED  FOR 
THEM  AT  THE  TOMOYE  PRESS,  NEW  YORK 
UNDER  THE  DIRECTION  OF  J.  H.  NASH,  IN 
THE  YEAR  NINETEEN  HUNDRED  AND  SIX 


•    .-. 


